


Heads Up

by Joycee



Category: White Collar
Genre: Brain Damage, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4499499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joycee/pseuds/Joycee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the course of taking down a desperate criminal, Neal sustains a severe concussion and becomes disoriented.  His friends and colleagues see a new side of Neal's personality as they help him recover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heads Up

White Collar Crimes are supposed to be mostly nonviolent, but you couldn’t prove that by CI Neal Caffrey’s experience. He had been beaten and shot and threatened and assaulted. His FBI handler, Peter Burke thought it was because Neal took too many risks, but Neal often had no choice, especially if he wanted to solve cases. Solving cases was what kept him out of jail. 

It was also true that Neal tended to see himself as invulnerable. He rarely admitted to self-doubt or weakness. Although Neal was in excellent physical condition and could handle himself in a fight, he was not trained in martial arts or police techniques. Neal was an expert marksman, but he didn’t carry a gun. 

Maybe most importantly, Neal had no real law enforcement power of his own. As a result, not only did risks have to be assessed carefully, but speedy, effective back up was critical. In order for that to happen, Neal had to be in communication with his FBI agent colleagues and SWAT back up teams.

That was where things generally broke down. When Neal stretched that limit too far, things tended to go badly for him. Sometimes his rescuers were too late to prevent injury to him. That is how Neal landed in the Bellevue Hospital Emergency Department with a head injury.

As Peter hovered by his unconscious informant’s bedside, he cursed Neal for once again pushing his luck a little too far. They had been so close to making an arrest, but Neal insisted on trying to get a confession in his undercover role. He succeeded, only to be exposed as a spy minutes later. In his attempt to escape, the criminal banker they were tracking pushed a bookcase full of heavy binders over onto Neal.

When Peter and Diana and Clinton Jones cleared the room, they found Neal unconscious and almost crushed under a pile of books and binders. The edge of the shelf had hit Neal’s head and knocked him to the floor where the back of his head hit the cement floor hard. As a result he was bleeding from wounds in both the front and the back of his head.

Peter ran to Neal immediately and felt for a pulse as he didn’t appear to be breathing. He cried out for Diana to get some medics in there immediately while Clinton Jones came over and pulled the heavy bookcase and binders off of Neal. The medics arrived within seconds and began to administer oxygen to Neal and assist his breathing mechanically with an ambu bag.

The medics finished their assessment and carefully loaded Neal onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. Peter climbed in to ride along, leaving Diana in charge of the scene with Jones’ assistance. When they arrived at the hospital, Peter relayed as much information as he could while Neal was whisked back for treatment.

To Peter’s relief, by the time he was ushered back to the treatment room, Neal was breathing without assistance, though he was still being given oxygen by nasal prongs. An IV was running into Neal’s arm and white gauze bandages encircled his head. 

He looked perfectly peaceful but his eyelids were dark and swollen. There was still a little crusted blood on his neck below the bandages. Ugly red and purple bruises were forming everywhere Neal had been hit by the bookcase and heavy binders. 

The familiar Dr. Chandra walked in and shook hands with Peter. “Agent Burke,” he said in his usual serious but calm voice, “Mr. Caffrey has been hurt rather badly this time. I’m afraid he has sustained a head injury that will require us to admit him.”

“How bad is it, Dr. Chandra?” asked Peter worriedly.

“It’s just too soon to tell,” the doctor replied. “He has been unconscious since the injury. There has been no sign of neurologic damage yet, but the blows to his head are severe and there will be swelling and possibly even bleeding inside his skull which can be dangerous.”

“When will you know?” asked Peter.

“I’m referring him to the neurology service. The doctors there will be able to give you a better answer,” replied Dr. Chandra. “They are very good and will do everything they can to help him.”

“Thank you,” said Peter, fighting back tears. Just as Dr. Chandra left the room, Peter’s wife Elizabeth and Neal’s friend Mozzie arrived. Diana had called El from the crime scene and she had called Mozzie and offered to bring him to the hospital with her.

“Suit. What happened this time?” Mozzie asked with an accusatory stare.

El said quickly, “Oh Hon, is Neal going to be okay? He looks so bruised up. Has he been awake yet?”

Peter ignored Mozzie and hugged El, feeling the need for her support.

“No, he hasn’t regained consciousness,” Peter stated. “They are going to admit him to the Neurology Unit. Dr. Chandra couldn’t give me a prognosis. They don’t know how bad it is yet.”

“Oh Hon,” murmured Elizabeth. She led Peter out of the room while the nurses prepared to transfer Neal.

Several hours later, the three of them sat in a waiting room outside the Neurology Unit. Neal was only allowed one visitor at a time for ten minutes every hour. Since he had not regained consciousness, even those short visits were unnerving. Finally the neurologist came out to talk with them.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Gus Atkins. I’m a neurologist on staff here at Belleview. You're Mr. Caffrey’s family?” he asked.

“Special Agent Peter Burke, doctor,” said Peter. “I’m Neal’s boss and these are his friends. Neal doesn’t have any family to contact. I’m responsible for him.”

“I didn’t realize he was an FBI Agent,” said Dr. Atkins. “I was told that he was the victim of a crime.”

“He is a Criminal Informant and Consultant to the Agency under my direct supervision. He usually wears a tracking anklet, but he was undercover for an official operation and he was hurt in the process,” explained Peter.

“I see,” said the doctor, “Does he need to be under guard then?”

Peter thought quickly, and ignoring the stares of El and Mozzie, he confirmed, “Yes, my office will provide round the clock security for him. Now can you please tell us what his condition is.”

Dr. Atkins nodded and told them, “As you know, the patient sustained heavy blows to both the front and the back of his head, resulting in cuts and bruises and loss of consciousness. He briefly stopped breathing at the scene, but was successfully revived by the paramedics in the ambulance without the need for insertion of a breathing tube or assistance from a respirator. That is a very positive sign.”

“How long will he be unconscious?” asked El.

“We don’t know, I’m afraid. We are not sedating him. We are giving him drugs through his IV to reduce the swelling around the brain and prevent convulsions. He may remain unconscious for hours or even days. He has suffered a traumatic brain injury, but it’s hard to predict the extent of the damage right now,” the doctor explained. “As long as he remains in a coma, he is not suffering pain from his other injuries, though.”

“What other injuries does he have?” asked Peter. “Are they serious?”

“It doesn’t appear so. He has multiple lacerations and contusions, some of them severe, but no broken bones and no internal bleeding that we have been able to detect. The next twenty-four hours will tell us a lot about his brain injury, but even then we may not know for sure for some time.”

“Would you say his condition is critical, doctor?” asked Mozzie.

“No, because he is breathing fine and his vital signs and reflexes are normal at this time. I would say his condition is Serious. We will be monitoring him very closely for any changes. There is no reason for you to stay here. We will take good care of him and visiting time will continue to be restricted for now.”

Peter pointed out, “My office will be posting a guard outside his room. I’ll wait here with him until they arrive.”

The doctor assented to that. When he was gone, Mozz said, “Quick thinking, Suit. I’ll be glad to take a turn at guarding him, too.”

Peter laughed and said, “I’m sure you would, but I think I can arrange for an official FBI contingent. I’ll stay here tonight and arrange for relief in the morning. Mozzie, I want you to look after El.” He winked at El and said, “And vice versa.”

Elizabeth agreed, “OK, Hon, we’ll go home, but promise you’ll let us know the minute anything changes.” Peter promised and they left. He sighed heavily and sat down for a minute. Then he headed for the Nurses Station to show his badge and ask for a chair so he could sit outside the door of Neal’s room.

As night descended over the hospital, Peter found, as he expected, that he could sit quietly at Neal’s bedside instead of outside the room without anyone objecting. He soothingly stroked Neal’s shoulder and whispered encouragement to him. He found himself repeating, “I love you, Neal. Please wake up for me. You’re going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you” over and over.

When the nurses came in to monitor Neal, Peter quietly stood aside and let them do their jobs. By morning, Neal was starting to stir and moan a little bit. He responded to painful stimuli and, a little later, to the sound of Peter’s voice. The more awake he became, the more he moved around in the bed, raising his blood pressure as well as the pressure inside his head.

Dr. Atkins came by and told Peter that he was going to order narcotic medication for pain and sedation so Neal could get the rest he needed. He assured Peter that Neal’s responsiveness was a good sign and that no other complications had been found so far.

When Peter had been by Neal’s side for almost twenty four hours, taking short naps in his chair beside Neal’s bed, he called Diana and filled her in on Neal’s condition and he asked for her to set up a relief schedule for him. 

Within an hour, she arrived in person and urged Peter to call El to come and pick him up. Peter gratefully left Diana at Neal’s bedside and went home to sleep. After twelve uneventful hours, Diana left and Clinton Jones took over. Twenty four hours after he left, Peter was back for another shift.

Dr. Atkins slowly cut back on the narcotic sedation so Neal could gradually wake up without too much pain and agitation. Finally, Neal opened his eyes and looked at Peter. His first expression was one of recognition. His next expression was one of confusion. He could not remember anything that happened on the day of his injury. He had no idea how long he had been in the hospital.

Fortunately, Neal had full movement of all his limbs and he rapidly recovered his ability to respond to verbal commands. Soon he was able to form words to speak semi-coherently. Dr. Atkins informed Peter that Neal’s progress was encouraging and the worst danger was probably past.

A nurse named Kelley came in to explain the implications of the moderate traumatic brain injury that Neal had sustained, including a list of possible and likely symptoms. They included chronic pain, sleep disorders, loss of stamina, emotional lability, lack of motivation, irritability, aggression, depression, and disinhibition. 

In addition, she said, “He might experience difficulties with attention, concentration, distractibility, memory, speed of processing information, confusion, impulsiveness, and various sensory and perceptual difficulties.”

Peter tried unsuccessfully to think of brilliant, quick witted Neal suffering those problems and had a hard time imagining it. Kelley stressed that every brain injury is different and Neal might experience some or all of those symptoms and even some she had not listed. 

She pointed out, “There will probably be improvement over time, but those around Neal will need to be aware and understanding of what he is going through. It is likely that Neal himself won’t understand his difficulties and he may become frustrated and upset because of them.”

Over the next few days, as Neal’s physical condition improved, some of the problems were immediately evident. He was irritable and easily frustrated, emotional and unpredictable, easily tired and overwhelmed, and he continued to have memory problems. As the doctor gradually decreased his narcotic dose, Neal was in pain from his multiple bruises and he suffered terrible headaches.

The doctor and the nursing staff now encouraged everyone to visit frequently as familiar faces were reassuring to Neal and they could help him to make progress as he healed. It was physically and emotionally exhausting to spend time with Neal when he was awake, which could be any time day or night. It was essential to rest when ever Neal slept.

After Neal had been in the hospital for two weeks, his cuts and bruises were mostly healed. He had regained the ability to walk to the bathroom, feed himself, and even dress himself with some assistance. Dr. Atkins suggested that he be moved to a specialized rehab facility for further intensive treatment. Peter and El wanted to just bring Neal directly home, but they were finally convinced that it would be better for Neal to go to rehab first.

The rehab facility responded to Peter’s ploy about Neal needing to be guarded around the clock by suggesting that his tracking anklet be reattached. They firmly insisted that Neal conform to their schedule and that his visitors respect their visiting hours policy. After two weeks, Neal was substantially improved and everyone agreed that he had made about as much rapid progress as he was likely to at that time.

Peter and Elizabeth were finally able to take Neal home with them. In many ways, he seemed like his old self, if a somewhat subdued and wounded version, but he lacked the joie de vivre and panache of their familiar friend and lover. They realized that he had undergone a serious injury and it would take time for him to fully heal.

One thing that was not lacking was Neal’s sex drive. He was physically affectionate and sensual with both of them and he seemed to be aroused most of the time. They often felt his erection as he sought physical comfort from them. 

Peter wanted Neal in the worst way, but he didn’t want to do anything that would be inappropriate. Finally one afternoon, Neal pressed the issue and they had frantic passionate sex that felt like it lasted for hours. Elizabeth came home to find them breathlessly recovering in the guest bedroom. She was embarrassed and unsure how she felt about it.

Of course, she knew Neal was Peter’s lover, and she was used to them showing some physical affection for each other, but she wasn’t sure she could cope with them openly having sex in her home, especially since Neal was showing a lot of sexual interest in her, too. Having Neal around all the time was already putting a strain on their relationship since he demanded near constant attention.

Peter wasn’t comfortable with sending Neal home alone, so he suggested that he move into Neal’s apartment with him temporarily until Neal was a little more capable of caring for himself. Elizabeth reluctantly agreed. A little time alone in her home would actually be a relief after the stress of the weeks since Neal’s injury.

Mozzie was suspicious and jealous of Peter’s presence in Neal’s apartment, but he realized that it was probably the best solution – temporarily. He volunteered to stay with Neal when Peter wanted to be with El and to make regular visits to El himself. None of them trusted Neal to be alone for more than a few hours at a time and he seemed placidly accepting of that.

Neal felt like he was sleepwalking through his days. His sense of time was impaired and his thoughts were fuzzy. His emotions were acute and unstable. He was constantly aroused and in need of affection. When he was alone, he didn’t know what to do. He had a hard time remembering what his life used to be like. He was easily frustrated when he tried to do anything the least bit complicated. He had no imagination and he had trouble concentrating.

Peter was infinitely patient. He thought of Neal as his responsibility and he did not resent him. He enjoyed how affectionate Neal was and he was loving his enhanced sexuality. Peter never tired of being in bed with Neal. He looked forward to sex in the morning, sex at night, and sex if he came home in the middle of the day. He only drew the line at sexual expression in public.

Neal responded to Peter like no one else. He did what Peter told him, he asked Peter the things he wanted to know, he sought comfort from Peter, and he expressed his love for Peter. He thought about Peter when he was gone and was thrilled when he came home. His world seemed more secure when Peter was in it.

As gratifying as it was for Peter, he knew it was not healthy for Neal. Peter decided it was time for Neal to resume seeing his psychiatrist, Dr. Grace Lilly, at NYU. When Peter called her, Dr. Lilly suggested that Peter come in first to fill her in on Neal’s condition. All she knew was that Neal had suffered traumatic brain injury in the course of an FBI operation a couple of months before.

Dr. Lilly greeted Peter warmly, saying, “It’s been awhile since we’ve seen each other.”

When they were seated in her office, Peter told her, “Neal suffered a traumatic brain injury a little over two months ago. The doctors say his life is no longer in danger and it will just take time for him to recover. They are reluctant to predict whether there will be any permanent damage.”

“How is Neal doing now?” Dr. Lilly asked.

“Well, you wouldn’t recognize him as the man you knew before. I mean, he looks as handsome as ever. His cuts and bruises have healed. But his functioning is basic and slow. His emotions are out of control.”

“How are you doing with him, Peter?” she asked.

“Well, that’s one reason I’m here. Neal is sexually aroused very easily and he wants a lot of affection. He was upsetting my wife, so I’ve moved in with him temporarily. He is very attached to me right now,” explained Peter.

“That must be a strain,” Dr. Lilly observed.

“Not as much for me as it is for everyone else,” Peter told her. 

“How do you think I can be of help?” the doctor asked him.

“My biggest questions right now are when is he going to get better and how much better will he get,” he said. “It is heartbreaking to compare Neal now to the man he was before this happened.”

“Oh, I agree with his neurologist that it is way too early to tell. Brain injury which results in prolonged unconsciousness often takes at least six months to a year to resolve. Of course, there should be slow but steady improvement over that time,” Dr. Lilly explained.

“You mean Neal is basically going to lose a year of his life?” asked Peter. He was shocked, even though he had been told the same thing at Bellevue and the rehab facility.

“Maybe not that long. Recovery from trauma is a very individual thing,” she pointed out. “I’ll be glad to talk to Neal if he remembers who I am. I can give you a better assessment then.”

“He remembers things from before his injury pretty well,” Peter said, “and he’s always had a good relationship with you.”

“OK, but Peter, don’t force him if he isn’t ready yet,” she told him.

When he got home, Peter told Neal he had been to see Dr. Lilly. Neal smiled and asked how she was. "I like her," he said.

“She’s kind of worried about you, Neal. She’d like to see you. Would you like that?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, I would,” Neal said and then repeated, “I like her.”

“She likes you, too, Buddy,” said Peter affectionately. “What did you do today while I was gone?”

“Oh, nothing much. I don’t know what to do when you aren’t here. I can’t read. I can’t paint. I can’t think, Peter,” 

“I know,” said Peter softly, “Let’s just give it some time, ok?”

“You say I’m like this because I hurt my head, but I can’t remember that,” Neal complained.

Peter put his arms around Neal and held him tight and Neal responded physically to his touch. “It’s going to be okay, Neal,” Peter told him. Then he took him to bed. In bed, Neal seemed happy.

On the day of his appointment with Dr. Lilly, Neal woke up with one of his frequent headaches. He couldn’t remember why he was going to see the doctor, but Peter wanted him to, so he would. When they got to her office, though, he started smiling.

Dr. Lilly could see the change in Neal immediately. He wasn’t dressed with his usual style and his facial expression was entirely unguarded. She had only seen him like that once when he was under the influence of the drug MDMA.

When Neal saw her, he came over and hugged her. Dr. Lilly gently separated from him before he could get too attached and led him into her office.

“Do you know why you’re here, Neal?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” he admitted. “I know my head was hurt and I haven’t been myself since then. I can’t remember being injured or being in the hospital.”

“Is anything troubling you, Neal?” she asked him gently.

Tears came to his eyes and he told her, “I’m not myself. My hands shake. My head aches. I can’t concentrate. I can’t remember things. I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for Peter. He helps me.”

“Do you understand that it takes time for a brain to recover from injury?” Dr. Lilly asked.

“I guess,” Neal said, “Am I brain damaged now?”

Dr. Lilly reached over and patted his arm and said, “Only temporarily, I’m sure. There are some things you can do that might help to speed up your recovery. Would you like that?”

“I would. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it, though. There are a lot of things I can’t do now,” he said sadly.

Dr. Lilly’s heart broke, but she smiled and told him, “Well, we’re going to make sure you can.”

Neal favored her with a big bright smile. “Can I come back to talk to you?” he asked.

“Of course,” she answered. “Peter will tell you when, okay?”

“Okay,” he said simply.

Dr. Lilly suggested some simple mental exercises to Peter that she thought Neal could try. “It may speed up his learning curve a little,” she told him. “It’s not that different from physical rehab.”

“I notice Neal is wearing his tracking anklet,” she observed.

“Yeah, I don’t want to lose him if he wanders off,” Peter joked, “and anyway, he wants it on.”

Every week, Peter could see improvement in Neal. He was gradually beginning to seem more like his cocky amusing self again. Neal had started paying attention to his clothes and his looks again. His sense of humor was returning and he was becoming proficient in cooking and even drawing again.

Elizabeth had been extremely patient but now she was ready for Peter to come home. He agreed that it was time, but he dreaded telling Neal. He waited until they had eaten a nice dinner together. Neal wasn’t allowed to drink any alcohol, but Peter prepared himself with a couple of beers.

When Neal cuddled up to him on the couch, Peter rubbed his hair and said affectionately, “Hey, Buddy.”

Neal smiled contentedly and snuggled against him. Peter pulled him back a little so he could look in his eyes and said, “You know, I ought to go home to El. I’ve been here for quite awhile. I’ll still visit you every day, but I think you can get along by yourself now.”

Neal’s eyes watered and he asked, “Will I have to sleep by myself?”

Peter relented and said, “Maybe just a few nights a week. I have to spend some nights with Elizabeth.”

Neal asked, “Couldn’t I spend some nights with Elizabeth, too?”

Peter said, “You can probably come over and sleep in the guest room sometimes like you used to.”

Neal looked sad for a minute and then he asked, “Well, do you think I could come back to work?”

Peter hadn’t even considered that. He suggested, “Why don’t we talk to Dr. Lilly about that the next time you see her?”

“OK,” said Neal as he nuzzled Peter’s ear. Then he reached for Peter’s belt.

Peter squirmed happily. Then he said, “Neal, you know if you come back to work, we need to be discreet.”

Neal looked at him like a wide eyed twelve year old and said solemnly, “I know. I’ll be good, Peter.”

Peter chuckled and said, “Oh you, you are good. Come here,” and reached out and pulled Neal close and kissed him lustily.

The first night Neal was home alone, he felt a little lonely so he decided to pretend that Peter was there quietly working on his files. That seemed to work for a while. When Neal went to bed, he jerked off with enthusiasm, picturing Peter fucking him.

In the morning, Peter stopped in to see how he was doing and Neal seduced him for a quick romp in bed before work and then cheerfully kissed him goodbye. Peter realized guiltily that he hadn’t had sex with Elizabeth for a month. He had his hands (and his mouth and his asshole) full with Neal.

After Peter left, Neal was bored. He tried to paint but he felt no inspiration. He went out for a short walk, but he had nowhere to go. He lay down for a nap and was relieved when Mozzie came strolling in. Somehow Mozz knew that Peter wasn’t staying there anymore.

When Mozzie opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass, Neal asked for one, too. “Are sure it’s okay for you to drink now, my friend?” asked Mozz. Neal nodded and Mozz believed him. Neal seemed so much better, almost like his old self again.

The two friends drank together and soon Neal was giggling hysterically at Mozzie’s antics. By the time Mozz left to meet some mysterious contact, Neal was pretty high on the wine. “Take it easy, my friend,” Mozz said cheerfully.

After he left, it was quiet and Neal decided he could have one more glass of wine. It tasted so good and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. It was also pleasant to have all his anxiety soothed away and his head felt pleasantly numb.

By the time Peter arrived after work, Neal was staggering drunk. “Hiii Pee-terr,” he slurred cheerfully, waving a glass of expensive red wine at him. “Mozzie was here and we had a great time.”

”Yeah, I see you did,” Peter said grimly, as he took the glass out of Neal’s hand.

“Wha’sa matter, Peter?” Neal asked. “We were jus’ havin’ fun. I guess I’m a li’l dunk.” He giggled, “I mean a diddle lunk…. Wait, li’l bit dunk… Oh, tha’s what I said before, isn’t it?”

Peter laughed in spite of himself. “I think you are a lot drunk, Neal,” he told him.

Neal looked stricken and said, “I’m sorry. I din’ mean to. I jus’ had too much to dink, I mean, oh you know….”

“Yeah, I know,” Peter chuckled affectionately. “Let’s get you some coffee and something to eat.”

Neal lurched toward him and fell into his arms. “Whooops,” he said. Then he looked sick and said, “Peter, think I’m gonna puke.”

Peter hastily guided him to the bathroom and lowered him to the floor by the toilet. Neal immediately threw up and groaned, “Oohhh, sick.”

Peter got a washrag and wiped his face and then got him to sip a little water. “Come on, Buddy,” he said, “Let’s get you to bed.”

Neal gave him a weak grin and said, “With you?” and managed to get to the bed before passing out.

Peter sighed and pulled out his phone to call El. When he told her he was going to be late, El asked, “Peter are you having sex with Neal?” Embarrassed, Peter told her no and explained what had happened. El said she’d give Mozzie a call and ask him to be more careful.

When Neal woke up, he was sick to his stomach and his head felt like it was in a vice. His mouth was dry and when he stood up, he nearly passed out. He sat on the side of the bed with his head in his hands. 

A familiar voice called out to him, “He who dances with the devil must pay the piper.” Mozz was sitting in his living room, looking at him sympathetically.

Neal suddenly turned pale and made a dash for the bathroom. His stomach was empty but that didn’t stop him from heaving. Mozzie brought him a glass of seltzer water and some Tylenol and laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. Neal crawled back into bed with a moan.

After that, Neal wasn’t tempted to drink. Gradually, he got used to being home alone. He found he could read for short periods. He could watch movies on television. He started to experiment with new cooking techniques. He took walks and occasionally played chess with old men in the park. 

Mozzie stopped in frequently. Elizabeth came over regularly to spend an hour or so with him. Most of all, he counted on Peter stopping in on his way to and from work. Whenever he could, Neal seduced him into bed. They agreed that on Friday nights, Peter would sleep over with Neal.

Neal looked forward to his visits with Dr. Lilly. She was impressed with his progress and told him so.

“But I’m still not normal,” he complained, “and Peter won’t let me come back to work.”

”Your work is too dangerous,” Dr. Lilly told him, “and too much pressure.”

“I miss it,” he confessed. “I’m bored.”

That afternoon when he got home, Neal decided to try a glass of wine again. This time he stopped after two glasses so when Peter arrived, he was pleasantly buzzed, but not falling down drunk. At least not yet. He greeted Peter with an urgent hug and kiss and said, “I really missed you.”

Peter sighed and said, “I see you did.”

Neal grinned, “Want to drink some wine with me? It’s good.”

Peter said, “Neal, you know you can’t drink.”

Neal pouted, “Why not? It feels good and I don’t have anything else to do.”

Peter relented and took him in his arms and said, “OK, I’ll see if I can get permission for you to come back to work. You have to promise to stop drinking, though.”

Neal said solemnly, “I will. I promise, Peter.” Then he was pulling Peter over to the bed and working on his zipper. Neal gave Peter an amazing blow job and Peter thought maybe he was the luckiest guy in the world to have this bright beautiful slightly damaged creature so devoted to his pleasure. 

He gave Neal a long kiss and then returned the favor. When he left, Neal was peacefully sleeping, face flushed from the wine and the sex.

By the time Peter got home in the evenings after stopping to check on Neal, he was always exhausted. El realized that most nights Peter had already had sex with Neal before he came home to her. As a result, their sex life was suffering badly.

When El complained, Peter tried to explain, “Hon, I just can’t help it. Neal is so needy.”

“What about me?” she asked.

Peter groaned, “I know, Hon. I’ll try to do better. It’s just been so hard going through this with Neal.”

“Something’s sure been hard,” El said mischievously, “just not for me.”

Peter grabbed her then and said, “Oh yeah? Let’s see about that!”

It had been almost six months since Neal’s injury. They had all developed a kind of understanding of Neal’s limitations. He continued to improve little by little. 

Finally, Peter agreed that Neal could return to the office in a limited capacity. He tried to prepare Diana and Clinton and asked them to explain the situation to the probies. He didn’t want too much pressure put on Neal and he didn’t want him to feel embarrassed or inadequate.

His first day back, Neal dressed in one of his classic Devore suits complete with hat and he looked terrific. When he came in, everyone stood up and clapped for him. Neal was deeply touched and tears came to his eyes, but he swallowed hard and put on a brave smile.

He felt so grateful to be back at his familiar desk, to be present for conferences, and just to be around normal people doing their jobs. He remained a little subdued. To anyone who hadn’t known him before, he seemed normal, but Diana and Clinton realized the old cocky, flashy, too clever by half Neal wasn’t quite back yet. Much as they hated to admit it, they missed him.

Still, Neal began to fit back into the routine with a few exceptions. No one considered including him in undercover operations. Neal’s lack of memory of his injury and lack of insight into his own personality changes were persistent. There were occasional inappropriate outbursts of temper or sentimentality.

One day, Peter went into the men’s room and was embarrassed to hear the unmistakable sounds of masturbation coming from one of the stalls. As he was coming, Neal crooned, “Oooh, Peter, that’s so good….” Peter blushed and thanked God there was no one else around. 

Generally, Peter had to develop a method of controlling Neal’s still excessive libido and lack of inhibition with certain gestures and verbal cues. It worked most of the time, but there were occasional lapses when Neal’s hand wandered to caress Peter’s leg or ass and he had to discreetly move it and get a little distance, avoiding Diana’s sharp glances. Gradually it became less of a problem.

After a couple of months, a banking fraud case similar to the one that had resulted in Neal’s injury came up and Neal suggested that he should be allowed to go undercover as Nick Halden to get the information they needed. No one but Neal thought that was a good idea, but that didn’t discourage him. He needed to prove that he was back and could pull his own weight.

Peter humored him by letting Neal ride along in the van while they monitored the banker’s shady business dealings. He didn’t notice Neal slip out until he heard Jones say, “What the fuck. What’s Caffrey doing in there?”

Peter turned to the monitor to see Neal smoothly engaging the banker in conversation. “Turn the sound up!” Peter ordered tensely.

“Hi, Nick Halden,” they heard Neal introduce himself. “I know what you’ve been doing, but you’ve made one important mistake.”

The startled banker asked, “Oh yeah, what’s that, wise guy?”

Neal calmly explained a flaw that he had detected in the banker’s scheme. 

The banker asked suspiciously, “What do you want?”

Neal/Nick told him, “I think we can work something out here if you cut me in. I know a way around the problem.”

The banker asked suspiciously, “What is it?” but Neal told him he would need additional information from the banker’s files to pull off the fix.

“Why should I trust you?” asked the crooked banker. 

“Because you know the flaw I pointed out will get you caught and you need me to fix it,” pointed out Neal as smoothly as he ever had. 

In the van, everyone held their breath and watched as Neal seemed to slip back into his old role with remarkable ease.

The banker reluctantly handed over the files Neal requested and agreed to meet him at the same time the next day. 

Neal returned triumphantly to the van and said, “Told you I could do it!”

Peter growled, “I ought to spank you,” but everyone could see how proud he was.

“Nice work,” Jones told him and Diana high fived him.

That night, for the first time, Neal had nightmares about the day his head injury happened. He awoke in a cold sweat just as he dreamed a heavy bookcase was about to fall on him. Neal got up and washed his face and fixed a cup of coffee. He didn’t want to go back to sleep until he was sure his head was clear.

In the morning, when the team met in the conference room, there was a heated debate about how to wind up the case on the banker. Peter argued that they had enough with the files Neal had obtained the day before to go ahead with an arrest. He thought it was too risky to send Neal back in as Nick again to try to get additional evidence. 

“But, Peter, I can nail this case shut. It’s all set up,” protested Neal.

The others were inclined to agree with Neal, although they didn’t want to push him too hard.

In the end, Peter relented grudgingly, warning, “One little thing is off when we get there and you don’t go in. Got it, Neal?” Neal grinned and nodded. “And one little thing starts to go wrong when you’re in there and we pull you out!” Neal nodded seriously.

“All right, let’s do it,” Peter said, giving Neal a fond look.

Neal kept his appointment as Nick Halden and everything went as expected with the banker thoroughly incriminating himself. As soon as he handed over the critical evidence, Peter and the others burst into the room shouting, “FBI, You’re under arrest.”

Neal stepped back. He was suddenly flooded with the memory of the heavy bookcase coming down on his head and he cried out in alarm. He put his arms up over his head. Everyone looked over at him curiously.

Peter could see that Neal was visibly shaken and he had an idea what had happened. He ordered the others to take the banker into custody as he went to Neal’s side.

He put his arm around his trembling friend and said, “Memories?” Neal nodded. “OK, well let’s get you home. Come on.” Neal followed him numbly.

All traces of the urbane, sophisticated Nick Halden were gone from the vulnerable Neal Caffrey that Peter tucked into bed. Peter sat beside him, stroking his arm and talking to him soothingly. “It’s all over now, Neal. Nothing can hurt you. Just take it easy and rest.”

Neal nodded weakly and then he slept. When he awoke, he was surprised to see Peter entertaining Jones and Diana who had come by to see how he was. As he sat up on the side of the bed, there was a knock at the door and Elizabeth and Mozzie walked in. June appeared right behind them.

Neal stood up, looking devastatingly handsome. He was still dressed in his suit pants and dress shirt and his hair was just slightly mussed from sleeping. Neal's bright blue eyes twinkled as he grinned and asked, “Party at my place?”

Everyone laughed and came over to congratulate him on his successful undercover operation. Peter was beaming with pride as he handed Neal a beer and cautioned, “Just one, Buddy.” 

Neal took the beer and gave Peter a wink and a broad smile. “Don’t you trust me?” he teased. Then he handed Peter his wallet, which he had just lifted from his pocket.

Everyone clapped and laughed. The real Neal Caffrey was finally back.

**Author's Note:**

> Symptoms, Diagnosis, Prognosis, & Treatment of Traumatic Brain Injury - Pennsylvania Brain Injury Association - http://www.traumaticbraininjury.com/understanding-tbi/
> 
> (The White Collar characters were created by Jeff Eastin for the USA television series. All other characters are entirely fictional and not based on any real persons.)


End file.
